Show Choir Whisperer
by loveadubdub
Summary: So cest la vie... yada, yada, yada... Here he is. Back in Ohio. Lovely, sickening, god-forsaken Ohio.


**SHOW CHOIR WHISPERER**

…

It's easier than he expects. Quite a bit easier, actually.

It's a coincidence- _serendipity- _that he happens upon the auditorium at the exact same moment she's beginning her serenade for the audio visual club. He's two feet from the door when he hears her start singing, and he can't help it. It's like God himself has laid out the perfect _dramatic_ opening.

So he picks up the second verse, and it's basically gravy from there.

He's not all that surprised. He's a very good singer, and girls are always attracted to his talent. Rachel Berry is no exception- in fact, she's possibly _the _person most easily swayed by good musical chemistry. And hell, they _have _good musical chemistry. Even a deaf person would be able to realize that.

It's funny. He's imagined this exact scenario maybe a thousand times over the past year, and he's almost _always _pegged her as being pissed. Or at least _trying _to be pissed. Sometimes in his fantasies, she's more dramatic than others. Sometimes she yells at him, maybe even slaps him. Other times, she just tries to ignore him- walks away or turns her head because she's got tears in her eyes.

But that's not what happens at all.

He asks if they can talk, and she just says yes. They sit down, and there's a little bit of small talk. It doesn't take long for her to ask about UCLA, and his first instinct is to lie and say it's going perfectly. But he sees an opening, and he takes it. He tells her the truth and does his best to make the story as sympathetic as possible. And maybe he embellishes a little bit. He's sort of a liar- it pretty much comes naturally. Plus, playing dumb is easier than just admitting that he preferred partying to class and made as little effort as possible to do anything else.

And anyway, his scholarship _should _have included an Asian kid to do his homework. At least at Carmel, they knew how to treat their stars right. UCLA is stuck up its own ass.

And no, he's not bitter.

Truthfully, college wasn't anything like he expected. It was nine and a half months of freedom and fun, and classes took a backseat. _Everything_ took a backseat. There were so many parties, so many _girls... _Being one of the few straight guys in his major gave him a serious leg up, and he took advantage of it. And since LA is _nothing _like Ohio, he made the most of _that _as well. And it was fun. Until it was over, of course. And then he was holding a letter from the school's financial aid department stating that his scholarship had been revoked, and his parents basically said _come home or find a way to support yourself._

And after he got turned down by Johnny Rockets, he sort of realized that _come home _was the only option.

So cest la vie... yada, yada, yada... Here he is. Back in Ohio. Lovely, sickening, _god-forsaken _Ohio.

It took him more than a week to work up the courage to make the trip to Lima. Well, really, that's a lie. It's not like he was _scared _or anything. Or needed _courage. _He just didn't know whether to bother. Yes, Rachel's kind of on his mind a lot, but being totally honest, he _did _kind of fuck her over last year. And the chances that she'd just be all forgive and forget were slim at best. He doesn't take rejection well.

And getting rejected by an entire _university _kind of filled his quota for the year.

But he took the chance, and here they are. She looks a little uncomfortable, and it takes less than ten minutes for her to bring up the whole egg fiasco. Truthfully, he doesn't want to apologize because he did what he did for the sake of winning, and as a fellow performer, she should be able to respect that. But Rachel is the kind of girl who needs someone to pander to all her head fantasies and give her the dramatic apology that she's been dreaming of since the last time he saw her. So he humors her. He apologizes and even throws in a line about hurting her being his one greatest regret.

Two minutes later, he's taking her to her prom.

…

She calls him every single night for the rest of the week.

She tries to tell him that he's not her _date, _and that they're going in a _group. _But that's ridiculous, of course, because he can't even _go _to McKinley's prom if he's not someone's date. So obviously he is, but he refrains from telling her that because the best way to deal with Rachel is to let her think she's in control. She's not, of course, never has been and likely never _will _be. But she likes to delude herself, and he can go with it.

After she assures him that it's just a "group thing," she starts spilling all kinds of gossip about some new kid named Sam who's apparently homeless or something.

"He's really, really nice. Like the nicest guy ever. So it's terrible. This recession _sucks!"_

He stops listening there, and an idea starts forming in his mind.

The next night, she calls to tell him that she bought a dress and that it's rose pink and that he needs to dress accordingly. He almost asks why if he's not her date, but he stops himself. Then she tells him, "Don't worry about a corsage because Mercedes and I are going to make our own. Unless you want to buy us _both _flowers, and then that might be alright. It will save us more money for dinner."

He tells her that he'll buy them both flower _and _pay for dinner, and she totally buys into it and sounds thrilled. But then she covers up quickly and says, "Don't make it too obvious. We don't want to make Sam feel bad."

He doesn't know Sam, doesn't give a shit about Sam, and doesn't like Mercedes.

But he's willing to buy both of their affections if it means getting closer to the final goal.

…

His parents aren't happy with him, and that's been more than slightly obvious ever since he's been home.

His father keeps telling him that he'll have to get a job, and his mother keeps making snide remarks about how disappointed she is and a bunch of other crap that he doesn't listen to. He's smart enough to know that he needs his parents, though, so he humors them and acts like he's disappointed in himself and lies about applying for jobs.

It will keep them satisfied for the time being anyway.

When he goes to pick up the girls' flowers, he also gets some tulips for his mother because they're her favorite. He leaves them on the kitchen table with a note about loving her before he leaves for some last minute wardrobe shopping and then doesn't answer the phone when she calls later to thank him.

…

He drives on prom night.

He knows the original plan was to _walk, _but that's just idiotic. Just because they don't want to waste money on a limo doesn't mean they have to pretend like they're _homeless. _Well... Okay, maybe that's in poor taste. Shit. That is, too. It's like he can't stop.

He picks Rachel up first, and she looks stunning.

Her dress is actually very pretty, and he won't lie and say that he wasn't a _little _apprehensive about what she might pull out for such an important occasion. Rachel's fashion sense is questionable at times, to say the least. She tends to go overboard or underboard, depending on the occasion. But tonight she looks beautiful.

He tells her so, and she smiles that huge smile that he hasn't been able to unsee for a year now. And she looks practically giddy when he hands her the corsage that, of course, matches her dress perfectly. He helps her tie it to her wrist and asks if she _really _bought that dress for five dollars.

"No," and she giggles and is so damn _cute _that he kind of wants to stab something and kiss her at the same time. "It _was _on sale, but Mercedes and I both went a little over budget... Don't tell Sam, though."

He thinks it's sort of hilarious that this entire prom on a budget scheme is basically executed in name only.

Her dads are both there and want to do the whole traditional picture taking thing. Rachel, of course, _lives _for having her picture taken and beams for approximately 989,303 pictures before she finally holds up her hands as if she's actually finishing up a real shoot and says, "Okay, that's enough. We've got to be going."

Then she grabs his hand and drags him out to his car.

He pretends not to notice the way both of her fathers were looking at him and plays oblivious to the fact that they clearly do _not _trust him and are secretly planning his murder should Rachel shed even one more tear.

…

Sam _looks _homeless.

Yes, he's well aware of the fact that that makes him an asshole, but so what? He _is _an asshole, and also, it's the truth. The kid literally looks like he's living out of a suitcase. His hair is about three inches too long, and his roots are showing. Seriously. The kid has _roots. _And his suit? Holy hell.

But Jesse puts on a smile, shakes his hand, and introduces himself politely. Then he tells Mercedes that she looks stunning, and she looks at him like he's some sort of evil incarnate who's actually offended her personally or something. And whatever. That whole New Directions thing was a big joke and was ages ago, so really, she doesn't need to judge him.

Then he gives _her _a perfectly-matched corsage as well, and she starts warming up a bit.

(In reality, he thinks that color of fuchsia is horrible with her skin tone, and her make-up is too heavy).

They go to Breadstix because that's _the _place to go in Lima. He tries not to gag on the thought alone. God, _Olive Garden_ is a step up from this place, and Olive Garden is basically the Target of Italian restaurants. Breadstix is the Walmart. Both need to be banished from earth.

Still, he slides into a booth with Rachel and Mercedes and their homeless Ken doll and tries very hard not to roll his eyes at any of the stupid, senseless things that any of them say. They get their food, and it's predictably disgusting. No one else seems to realize this, though, so he spends an hour pushing fettuccine around his plate and manages to only actually take about six bites. He does, however, drink three cups of coffee because this is possibly the most boring dinner he's ever had the displeasure of attending.

And then they have to start comparing outfits...

And Sam _has _to ask for his opinion. And he accidentally lets his filter down for a moment and gives a halfway honest thought as an answer. Sam looks a little taken aback, so he jumps right into covering it up with a sympathetic statement about the idiot's family finances. And that's all the segue he needs to spring his new brilliant idea on them.

Rachel calls him the "show choir whisperer" and looks at him like he's just offered her the lead role in the revival of Funny Girl or something. And seriously, he never thought it would be _this _easy.

And then _Finn fucking Hudson_ shows up.

Jesse has never liked Finn. And not just for the obvious reason. The Rachel thing would be reason enough alone, but there is so much more. Finn is just a useless dumbass. Literally. He is a dumbass. And he is just about the _worst _so-called male lead Jesse has ever seen in his entire show choir career. He is not talented, cannot sing, cannot dance, and certainly does not possess even the slightest ounce of star potential.

So really, there is no need to acknowledge him when he makes a predictable comment about scrambled eggs. If Jesse _were _going to acknowledge him, he'd ask him how long it took him to come up with that "insult." But idiocy doesn't need to be acknowledged, so instead, he tells Quinn how beautiful she looks.

He hits on Quinn right in front of Finn _and _Rachel, and neither of them even seem to notice.

It's almost _too _easy.

…

McKinley holds prom in the _gym._

Literally.

It feels like some terrible 80s teen movie come to life or something. The decorations are nauseating, and he really doesn't know how he's going to get through four hours of this without throwing up his six bites of pasta. There are _streamers. _The last time he saw a streamer was at his fifth birthday.

Apparently, the entire _school _is homeless.

He lies, of course, and agrees when Rachel gushes about how beautiful everything looks. "It's so _magical!" _And since Rachel is the kind of girl who _needs _prom, he smiles and tells her that it's amazing.

"And so amazing to be here with you."

He sneaks the last part in and offers her a perfect smile in addition. She just looks at him, and for once, he can't really tell what's going through her head. She looks like she wants to say something back, but she doesn't. She just blinks a few times and then says she's thirsty.

The punch isn't spiked, and he's not at all surprised that no one in this joke of a school is capable of slipping some vodka into the punch bowl. This night is getting lamer and lamer by the second, but he's here for _Rachel, _so he scoops her some punch and gives her the same smile all over again when he hands her the cup.

He really wants to laugh when these three douchebags get onto the stage to sing "Friday." He realizes they're attempting irony, but the joke is lost with the fact that it's actually _Saturday. _Plus, they sound absolutely terrible, and he doesn't understand why people are cheering instead of... pouring pig's blood on them or something. It really is _that _terrible.

But he gets to dance with Rachel and listen as she laughs at everything, and he almost feels bad because this girl is seriously having the time of her life. How sad has her entire existence been when _this _excites her and makes her happy? It's just pathetic.

He wants to shake her when she sings "Jar of Hearts" and stares at _Finn _the entire time.

It's not even jealousy. He's simply in _shock _that she chose this song for _Finn. _This song is far too dramatic for someone as surface-oriented as Finn Hudson. It's raw and depressing, and honestly, if Rachel's going to sing that song to anyone, it should be to _him. _He knows it's insane, but she's robbing herself of a perfect dramatic moment by not directing at least a _little _bit of anger toward him.

When she runs up to him after she leaves the stage, he hugs her and tells her how beautiful she sounded. "Your intonation was _perfect, _and the emotional depth was flawless." Rachel loves that. She smiles and throws her arms around his neck and asks if he'll dance with her.

He's never understood school dances honestly.

They're just stupid. They're basically cesspools for drama, and while obviously he can appreciate a good amount of drama, he's not entirely sold on the stupid teenage bullshit drama that most high schoolers are capable of. So he watches girls cry when they're dates abandon them or spend the entire night checking out other girls, and he watches guys try to pretend that they think this whole thing is lame when they're really freaking out inside about screwing it up. And it's just _stupid._

"You really do look _so _beautiful," he tells Rachel when she's got her arms around his neck and is swaying slightly back and forth to the beat of the music. She smiles up at him, and it's not even a lie. She _is _beautiful. He knows how much she loves compliments, and he's never shied away from showering her with them. He doesn't plan to stop now.

"Thank you for bringing me here." It's _almost _a date confirmation, but she does her best to lessen it. "I would have had fun anyway," she amends nearly immediately. "With Sam and Mercedes. But it's nice to just... have someone."

He sees her eyes flicker around his shoulder, and he doesn't have to turn around to know who she's staring at.

…

It's literally the very first time in his life that someone has hit him.

And okay, Finn doesn't actually _hit _him. He gets in his business and shoves him for about an hour, but the second he throws a punch, Jesse ducks, and he misses. Still. It's close enough.

So he's basically in shock as he sits in his car and stares at the school. He expects Rachel to run out- (whether she'd be running after him or after Finn remains unknown)- but she doesn't. He sits in the parking lot and waits and waits and waits, and she doesn't come.

He can't believe it.

He cannot believe that someone just tried to _punch _him. People don't _punch _him. They just don't. People know better.

But Finn Hudson _is _a dumbass.

Of course, there's a part of him that appreciates the pure dramatics of the situation. A very public fight over a beautiful girl and being thrown out of a junior prom when he's already finished a year of college... Well, it's a good story. He'll admit that.

But where the hell is Rachel?

…

She texts him the next morning and asks what he's doing.

_Church, _he tells her. And it's a lie, but who cares? His parents are going to church, and he _could _go if he _wanted. _But he doesn't.

_Sorry about last night._

He doesn't know why _she's _the one apologizing, but it sort of amuses him. He knows that he needs to apologize for probably ruining her prom and for leaving her and their other "dates" without a ride home. But if she wants to take the blame he'll let her.

_When will you be back in Lima?_

The true answer to that is _never if I can fucking help it, _but the answer he gives is _I'm not sure._

_I'd like to see you again. I had fun._

So _never if I can fucking help it _is probably more like _after I get home from fake church._

…

"I was worried he would hit you again. Like in the parking lot or something."

Her dads are gone for the evening to some dinner party, and they're in her kitchen drinking lemonade that he _knows _she literally just hand-squeezed. She's so odd.

"He didn't hit me at all," he reminds her. "He _tried _to because he's a barbaric idiot, but luckily I had enough grace and instinct to move out of the way at the exact right moment."

Rachel just kind of gives him a half smile. He doesn't know what it means.

"And clearly you weren't _too _concerned because I waited outside for you for almost an hour." He throws that last part in just to make her feel guilty. If she's already apologizing, he figures it can't hurt.

"I..." She stutters for a second and then draws in a breath. "Quinn hit me."

He stares at her. He doesn't know if she's serious, but he kind of thinks that she is.

"What?"

"She slapped me," she repeats. "In the face." A beat passes and then, "It was very dramatic."

He doesn't know what to say. He shakes his head, and the best he can come up with is, "Why?"

"I don't know." She sighs, and there is a part of him that _knows _she only does so because she thinks it adds to the dramatic effect. "Because of you. And Finn. And... _Finn," _she finally finishes.

"So it's Finn's fault."

"It's not his fault." She levels a stare at him that he's pretty sure is supposed to be some kind of warning, but he doesn't care. She's being stupid, and he intends to tell her just that.

"He tried to _hit _me. And then his girlfriend hit _you. _Do you not see the connection there?"

"It's complicated."

He laughs because it's bullshit, and she probably knows as much. She's just got this terrible habit of trying to see things better than they really are. For one of the most critical people he knows, she certainly has the personality of a supreme optimist.

"Look," he says pointedly, "I don't know what's going on with you and Finn or what _went _on with you and Finn, but-"

"We dated."

He stares at her because she's got to be stupid if she thinks he doesn't _know _that. Finn swooped in the second Jesse was gone, and that's pretty common knowledge. She's crazy if she doesn't know that.

"Yes," he says slowly, "and now he's clearly dating Quinn."

Rachel's face tightens slightly, and he _hates _that she's in love with that douchebag. God, he doesn't _get _it.

"Look," he says again, changing the subject, "I didn't start that fight."

"No," she agrees. "But Finn had a point. You _did _treat me like crap."

And there it is. A little bit of the pissed off girl in his fantasy starts to show up, and he just looks at her, sitting there at her kitchen island in a sundress and a ponytail. She looks like... Hell, he doesn't _know _what, but maybe that's perfect.

"I know," he acknowledges because he's already admitted to it. And even if he's past the Prince Charming stage, he's not going to take it back. "And I apologized. But Finn is _insane. _He has a girlfriend and picked a fight at his prom over _you. _Don't you see how fucked up that is?"

A year ago, she would have told him not to say fucked. Now she doesn't even flinch at it. Maybe she's changed.

"You don't know anything about it," she mumbles. "I cheated on him."

And he didn't know _that _part. He's shocked really, shocked that she would cheat on _anyone- _especially someone she spent that long chasing. So he just stares at her and waits until she looks up and elaborates.

"He slept with Santana and didn't tell me. And I was so upset when I found out, and..." She swallows, and he wonders if she wants to cry. He hopes to God she doesn't because that's just taking the drama one step too far. "I was upset, and I made a mistake. But he _lied _to me." He can tell she's trying to justify it, so he helps her out.

"Because he's a _liar." _Yes, he sees the irony- no, he does not care. "And he's jerking you around now, not because he still wants you, but because he doesn't want anyone else to _have _you. He doesn't want you to be happy."

He's laying it on thick and completely ignoring the fact that Rachel didn't _know _Finn slept with Santana a year ago. Hell, _he _knew that, and he tried very hard to ignore the personal going-ons of every single idiot in New Directions. How Rachel missed _that _news... he's not sure. But it doesn't matter.

"He _lied _to you. So unless you like... cheated on him with _Puck," _he laughs at the possibility, "he should be able to forgive you. _If _he really loved you."

Rachel looks straight down at the top of the island, and...

"_Jesus_ _Christ, _Rachel, you are something."

And then she looks up, and it's almost back to the glare. "Don't judge me," she demands. "You don't... You don't get to judge me."

"I'm not judging you." And it's not even a lie. Yes, he's a very judgmental person by nature, but he gets Rachel in a way he _knows _no one else does. So, no. He's not judging her. "Don't you know that you're _better _than all this?"

"Don't give me a lecture on being the bigger person. I-"

"I'm not talking about being the bigger person." She hates to be interrupted, but he doesn't care. "I'm talking about you being better than all of this. Than all of _them. _This... This isn't where you're supposed to _be, _Rachel."

He can tell he's getting back into her good graces. She just looks at him and waits for him to go on.

"God, you should be... You should be _happy _that Finn's a douche. If he wasn't, and you stayed with him, he would trap you in this town for the rest of your life. And this is _not_ supposed to be your life."

She looks like she might understand him. He hopes she does.

…

His parents laugh at him when he tells them about his business plans.

Well, actually it's just his father who laughs. His mother stares at him like she's not sure if he's serious. But his father laughs and shakes his head and says, "Starbucks is hiring."

There's no way in hell he's spending three or four hours a day writing people's names on cups (or however long people work, he really has no idea). He knows one thing, though. He's going to prove his parents wrong, and when he becomes an extremely awarded choreographer, they can kiss his ass.

He seriously hates being home.

…

He goes to meet Mr. Schuester on a Wednesday.

Rachel set the whole thing up and warned him that Schue might not be entirely open to the suggestion. To compensate, she prepared a list of bullet points for him to refer to if Schue starts trying to take the meeting off-subject.

As it turns out, Mr. Schuester does _not _go off on an immediate tangent about how Jesse is really nothing more than a retired spy come once again to play in the enemy's playground. He _does _give him a little bit of a dirty look, which Jesse is _quite _sure is more to do with leaving New Directions last year- not the fact that he tried to make an omelet on Rachel's head. Schuester probably doesn't even give a damn about that.

"Why should we trust you?"

It's the question he's been expecting, and he still doesn't have a good answer.

"I want Rachel back." He sits up straighter in his chair. "She deserves to be happy, and I want her to win."

Schue looks impressed, like he's actually believing the bullshit that is literally _spewing _out of Jesse's mouth at the moment. _Yes, _he wants Rachel back, but this is hardly about _her._

If New Directions wins nationals, then Vocal Adrenaline does not.

Vocal Adrenaline, four years consecutive national champions.

There doesn't need to be a fifth.

Jesse will do _anything _to make sure there's not a fifth. They _can't _win without him. There's no way. He's already failed at college. He's back in fucking _Ohio... _He needs _something _to validate his existence.

Four consecutive national titles are all he has to hold onto. If there's a fifth, it'll completely negate his contribution. If they can win a fifth without him, then they could have won the first four without him. And he _refuses _to accept that.

So if he has to train New Directions from the floor up to make sure that Vocal Adrenaline loses... then he's willing to do it. And God knows they'll have to be trained from the floor up- that bunch of clumsy, bubbling, off-key carolers.

_Why _is this his life?

"I know how to win a national title," he says seriously, leveling his gaze with Mr. Schuester who just kind of looks back warily. "I've done it four times. I can do it a fifth."

Yes. _He _can have a fifth title- but _they _can't.

"We don't have any money to pay-"

"That's alright," Jesse jumps in. "I'll work pro bono." Yes, it would be _nice _to get money, but that's not what this is about. This is about wooing Rachel, beating Vocal Adrenaline, and proving to his parents that his idea _isn't _just a crazy idea, which is exactly what his father said right before he refused to cosign on a small business loan.

"Fine. But don't play us," Schuester makes the threat like someone is actually going to be scared. "And don't hurt Rachel."

Rachel. Right. Like Will Schuester gives a _shit _about Rachel Berry.

…

New Directions is about as welcoming as they were the first time.

It's a little bit like deja vu, standing there beside Mr. Schuester as he introduces him to the class. "Our new show choir consultant." It's not as catchy as "show choir whisperer," but Schue is not nearly as creative as Rachel.

Nearly the entire class is glaring at him. Sam's not- has no reason to because Jesse has never done anything but be nice to him. Mercedes looks slightly suspicious but overall indifferent. Brittany looks like... _Brittany. _And that's about as friendly as it gets.

"This is crap, Mr. Schue," Finn spits out immediately, and the glare on his face rivals the one he had on prom night, except maybe it's even worse now. It's amusing. "This jackass isn't here to do anything but screw us over."

"You might be surprised, Finn," Jesse answers calmly, "but I have no interest in screwing you in any direction." A couple of people snort, but he doesn't know or care who. "I am here to help your team win nationals. I, unlike all of you, have been there before."

Finn literally looks like he's _chewing _his tongue.

"He was a spy before, and he's still a spy." Santana levels a bored look at him and files her nails without breaking eye-contact. He's always had a certain level of respect for Santana. Raging bitch, yes, but at least she's honest about it. "And I'm sure _Rachel's _to blame for this as well."

Rachel stands up and turns around to face Santana and the rest of the class. "Jesse is here to help us," she says firmly. "We need to put the past behind us and focus on the future. On nationals."

"Are you _serious _with this shit, Rachel?" That's Puck, and Rachel just purses her lips and stares at him. "I mean, like... do you have amnesia or something?"

"No, I do not have amnesia," and her lips stay pursed the whole time. "But that was a year ago. If he can help us win nationals, we need to let him. He's done it before, you guys."

"Four times," Jesse speaks up. "In a row."

Rachel beams, and everyone else just rolls their eyes.

…

The thing about New Directions is that they're awful. Just fucking terrible. They're basically an insult to show choirs everywhere.

But they're also his only chance to salvage what's left of his glory, so he runs with it.

First things first, though, he has to deal with auditions because apparently if you go around handing out solos in this glee club, people get their feelings hurt and turn into six year olds. So Schuester tells him that they're sticking with auditions because it's a sensitive subject, and will apparently be even worse now that _he's _in the picture.

Halfway through the auditions, Jesse is ready to claw his own eyeballs out.

Mercedes calls him a prick when he tells her that belters are a dime a dozen (truth). Kurt looks like he might literally cross the room and slap him when he says that his voice isn't competition friendly (truth). Santana tells him to get a real man's haircut and kiss her ass when he says her particular tone is overdone (truth).

No one can handle the truth, and it's _ridiculous._

When they take a break, he lays it right out on the table for Schuester.

"Rachel is the only singer you've got that's even remotely capable of competing at a national level."

"We are a _team," _Schue answers calmly. "That's the way we do things around here."

It's a lie, of course, but whatever. He can delude himself into believing that if he must, but it doesn't change the fact that Jesse is right.

"Then I hope you're prepared to _lose _as a team because that is exactly what will happen."

Mr. Schuester looks annoyed, but it's obvious that he knows Jesse is correct (he always is). "Rachel will be featured," he says. "Of course. But we're a group. And it's not fair to feature Rachel alone."

"Then you won't win."

"We could do a duet. Rachel and Finn..." Of course, the Rachel/Finn duet is a _staple _of New Directions. It clearly hasn't gotten them very far.

"No offense," Jesse says serious (and he _definitely _means offense), "but Finn will be laughed off the stage at a national level."

"I know that you have your differences, but-"

"It has nothing to do with that." And it really doesn't. "He is _not _that talented, and Rachel nearly always overpowers him. The judges will pick up on that, and they won't appreciate it."

Schue looks conflicted, but there's obviously at least some level of doubt in his mind because he says, "Well, what about Kurt?"

"Kurt's voice is not show choir accessible. People will be confused."

"That's homophobic. And we _don't _deal with that around here." Mr. Schuester seems completely serious, which is funny and ironic at the same time.

"I said nothing about his sexuality. Nor does his _voice _have anything to do with his sexuality. You jumping to that conclusion, however... I think that speaks more of your own intolerance."

And. Played.

Schuester shuts up after that and starts listening.

…

"They're going to hate me."

He's in Rachel's living room going over some song selections with her. He's already told her that she's going to carry the team at nationals, and while obviously she rarely passes up the chance for a solo, apparently she's developed some level of humility or something over the past year. Because she's shaking her head.

"They think I get too many solos."

"Rachel, they're _jealous. _And also, terrible." She shoots him an annoyed look, but he carries on. "If they want to win, they need to accept that you're the only one capable of carrying them and just deal with it. No one else has what it takes to compete at that level."

"But... They're my friends." She says it with almost a hint of questioning, and if it wasn't so fucking pathetic, he might find it amusing.

"They're not your _friends. _They don't even like you."

And then she looks seriously hurt, and okay, he didn't _mean _to do that, but sometimes people just need to hear the truth. And in Rachel's case, sometimes the truth hurts.

She blinks a few times and then just barely mumbles, "They like me now."

He wants to shake her or something, wake her up to the obvious. Instead, he just tells her. "Santana hates you. Finn wants you to be miserable. Puck wants to sleep with you. Quinn wants to push you off a cliff. Kurt-"

"Okay, stop," she cuts him off. He should probably feel bad, but she needs a reality check. If her feelings are hurt... Well.

"You don't _need _them," he tells her seriously. "Rachel, you're better than all of them. You need to focus on getting out of here."

He surprises even himself with the fact that he's so completely serious. He's not sure why it's so important to him, but she can't get stuck here. She just _can't. _She needs to get out and stay out.

And fuck, he needs to get out, too.

Ohio is literally _strangling _him, and he can't take it. He just seriously cannot take it. He hates feeling this out of control, and he hasn't even let himself realize it until just now. But he's not going to let it show. He keeps a tight hold on it and just focuses on Rachel.

"What is more important? Making friends with a bunch of people who won't even remember your _name _in five years? Or actually _making _your name?"

She stares at him. She knows what he's saying, and she knows it's the truth. So she just nods, a bit dumbly, but she nods.

It feels almost awkward, like maybe he's brainwashing her or something. But he's not. He's just telling her the truth. He's doing it _for _her.

"You're going to be a star, Rachel," and he literally believes that. "I'm going to make sure of it."

He has no idea how he's going to make sure Rachel Berry becomes a star when he couldn't even pass English 101.

…

He runs into some of his old friends, and they ask him about school. He lies and says everything's good. They ask how long he's home for, and he says, "Just for the summer."

Then they ask if he's seen Vocal Adrenaline lately. There's a new star, and they don't seem too impressed. Jesse just shrugs.

"Haven't seen them, don't care to."

…

He sneaks into their next rehearsal and watches from the part of the balcony that's completely blocked from the stage.

They suck.

He feels infinitely better.

…

New Directions sucks, too.

They're still terrible. They still can't dance. They can barely sing. And their so-called "heart" is visibly disrupted by the fact that there's too much personal drama between them.

Finn refuses to do _anything _Jesse suggests. Rachel looks uncomfortable ninety percent of the time. And everyone else wavers in and out of attention like a bunch of nine year olds without their ADHD medication. 

It occurs to Jesse that something is off while he's trying to figure out couples choreography when _clearly _none of the guys can lift the new girl (and seriously? She can't even sing).

"Where's the black guy?" He doesn't remember his name and only _now _realizes he's gone. Obviously he wasn't _that _important.

"Matt transferred," Rachel mumbles when everyone looks at him like he's just said something incredibly offensive. He hasn't, of course, and he hates how sensitive some people are. It just makes them look weak.

Jesse sighs. There goes the only thing New Directions _did _have going for it- multiculturalism. Now Mercedes has to fill the African-American quota on her own.

"At least there are still two token Asians."

It's only after a few people gasp that he even realizes he's said it out loud. And seriously, they should just _get over it._

He's sick of being here already. This is pointless. He's wasting his time coaching amateurs, and fuck this.

But then he sees Rachel looking at him with an almost secret, silent pleading, and he knows he's got to do it. Because even if she hasn't fully forgiven him and even if she's still inexplicably in love with Finn Hudson... He has to get them out of there.

So he motions to the band to take it from the top and mentally checks off his recently amended Life To Do List.

Take care of himself first.

Take care of Rachel next.

Screw everyone else.

Get the hell out of Ohio.

…

She calls him later that night after he's just sat through an exhausting pretentious dinner with parents who can hardly stand to look at him.

"Do you really think I can be a star?"

She sounds young. She _is _young. Sometimes he forgets that.

"You will be," he tells her, for once in his life meaning every word. "I promise."

"Will you help me?"

"We can help each other."

He wonders if a year of failed college has changed him. He's honestly being sincere. It scares him a little bit because he doesn't like it so much. He likes being one step ahead and calculating every move of every game. But when it comes to getting out of here, he doesn't even _care _about the game.

He just needs to convince Rachel to do the same.

It might take some work.

…


End file.
